


Rising from the Ashes

by Kiana_mka



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Businessmen, F/F, F/M, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, f/m - Freeform, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiana_mka/pseuds/Kiana_mka
Summary: Kimberly Williams-Anderson always knew her father was not a good man. That was why her mom had tried to keep her away from the world he was involved in.But now, 2 years after her mom passed away in a car accident, she doesn't seem to be able to stay away from her father and the darkness that follows his business.That's when she stumbles upon Alexander Knight. The oldest heir to the Knight Corp. and the epitome of tall, dark and handsome.He seems to be able to help Kimberly find the answers to questions she's had since her mom's death, and he expects Kimberly to help him in return. Sounds fair, right?... right.Kimberly's life seems to be flipped upside down (yet again) when she discovers the real reason why Alexander was so willing to offer her his help.More truths are revealed as she refuses to give up until she has solved the mystery of her mother's death and goes through more drama that she bargained for.She knows by now fairytales are not true, but will she at least get her happy ending?
Comments: 4





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is gonna be the first work ever I put on any online platform whatsoever. I usually just write for my own and my stories are way too personal to share. However, for the first time, I shared a piece of this story with some friends and they suggested I post it online. So, enjoy and tell me what you think :))

There are just a few things in the world that I fear more than spiders. A serial killer with a chainsaw, falling down a building and breaking every bone in my body, but not being lucky enough to die and thus, suffer the agonising pain, drowning in the salty water of the ocean or being burned alive. But most of all, I fear dying without finding out the reason behind the accident that took away my mother from me.

There are even less things in the world that I hate. Spiders are still high on that list. Natalie’s ‘specially made’ vegetable soup has the potential to be the third option on the list and the fourth place goes to scary movies probably. But nothing could ever compare to the amount of resentment I harbour towards the man that takes 50% credit for creating me. He has and will probably always be the number one name on my ‘to-hate-list’.

My father, a powerful businessman as many would depict him, and I had a very complicated relationship. Up until the age of 16, I had only seen him in my mom’s old photo album, or on the internet, whenever he had broken a new deal and made another million or so to add to his fortune or if there was a scandal he was a part of. He had managed to stay away from silly affairs and stupid scandals that most famous poeple dealt with, which was impressive, given his line of work. Though, I believed it had less to do with the man himself being unproblematic, and more with what he was doing behind closed doors and how much his privacy mattered to him. People could basically kiss their way up his ass and drink his words like their life depended on it, he could be the most beloved person on the planet and I would still hate him until the day I die.

“Miss Anderson, Richard is ready to drop you home.”

My attention was snatched away from the massive portrait mounted on the wall in my father’s countryside mansion. It was one of my mom’s favourite photos from their wedding day, and he had made sure to get it done in the biggest size possible just to please her on their first wedding anniversary. It was a mystery to me why he still had it on the wall, but I would never ask him that.

No, asking such a thing meant giving him an opening to talk about how much he _loved my mother and how much he cares about me_ and a lot of other things I would love not to unpack.

Grabbing my beige coloured cardigan and my purse, I offered Gibson a small smile and thanked him. I had given up trying to get him to stop calling me ‘Miss Anderson’, but the man wouldn’t budge. I sped walked towards the hallway after bidding him goodbye with the intention of basically running out the door so I would dodge another awkward encounter with my father.

“Kimberly.” I heard him call me loudly from the staircase.

Of course nothing would go the way I want in this house. Halting my steps, I clenched my fist, but didn’t turn to face him until I heard his footsteps approaching me. I knew it annoyed him when I didn’t respect him the way he expected me to, and well, maybe the main reason I didn’t respect him was to piss him off, as well as the fact that I did not harbour any amount of respect for this man whatsoever.

“Father, I was just leaving.” I said, finally turning to face him when he tapped me on the shoulder.

He pressed his lips in a tight line, his eyebrow twitching as he just looked at me silently. Well, that was a first. Usually he had much more to say.

“I am throwing a cocktail party next week and I expect you to be there.” He stated finally.

“I’m busy next week.” I shrugged. It was a blatant lie, but he didn’t need to know that. I didn’t have much to do expect plan for a fundraiser party for the charity and also to help Natalie set up her new art studio, but there was no way in hell I would show up to one of his stupid parties.

“I know you can be very busy, but it is an important gathering. You need to be present.”

He wasn’t asking, it was an order. I knew his tone well enough not to disobey him. The last time I didn’t listen, he ended up sending Richard to get me midway through an important meeting I had for the charity. It was more than just embarrassing, having to explain to my coworkers and the managing committee of the charity why my father’s right hand man had to basically drag me out of a meeting to join a lunch my dad had invited me to.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

We both knew I would show up, but I wouldn’t just give him the satisfaction that easily. And like that, I gave him a tight-lipped smile and walked right out of his house.

As Gibson had mentioned, Richard was already waiting for me in his car. He didn’t comment when I slammed the car door and just started driving. He was the only one who knew when to back off.

“Kimberly, we’re here.”

I snapped out of the haze I was stuck in and looked up, and sure enough, the car was parked in the driveway of my home.

Home… if I was given the choice, I would pick our penthouse back in London to live in over this beautiful two-story house with a tiny backyard and a swing in the foyer. Home was where you felt safe and the only place I’ve ever felt safe in was the penthouse.

Sure, mom and I lived in this place for 4 years before her accident and I was attached to every square meter of the house; but it never gave me that feeling of protection the penthouse offered me. Maybe it was because my father had a set of spare keys and the possibility of him just walking in whenever he desires, ruined whatever sanctuary this place was supposed to offer.

At least, I didn’t have to live in my father’s countryside mansion, or even worse, in his penthouse in Manhattan. It did take a lot of persuasion and as much as I hate to admit it, me threatening to run away, before he granted me the ‘permission’ to live on my own.


	2. II

“So, are you really gonna go, then?” Natalie asked once she put her mug.

Who knew a big mug of Jerico’s hot chocolate with marshmallows on top was what I needed the most after one hell of a meeting with the managing committee about the fundraiser’s party I was in charge of organising.

“Well, she has to go now that Hugh’s gone all ‘ _ you have to be here’ _ mob boss tone on her.” I laughed at Bryson’s absurd attempt to imitate Hugh. Unfortunately though, he was right.

“Do you want us to go with you?” Natalie asked, the concern in her green eyes mirrored in her voice. “We can be your dates. I’m sure he’d let you have a date... or two?” 

“Thanks Nat, but no. I need to do this alone.” 

As much as I would love to have Bryson and Natalie by me during that torturous party, I would under no circumstances take them anywhere near Hugh, or the people he worked with. It was enough that I had to endure the downsides of having my father work alongside criminals of the underworld, I would never put Natalie and Bryson through the same.

  
  


Unlike all those innocent little children in the movies or books, I was totally aware of who my father was, and why my mom had decided to stay away from him and the lifestyle he had chosen for himself. As soon as I was old enough to understand, my mom had brought up an old family album, showed me photos of my father and explained to me that she had taken a 2-years-old me and her most precious belongings packed in a single suitcase and had fled the country and of course, the reason why she had done that.

I remember, at first, like every other teenager, I was a bit pissed. My father was freaking loaded back in the States, ruling his own kingdom in business and whatnot and here we were. We weren’t poor, don’t get me wrong. My grandfather’s money he had left my mom was more than enough to support the both of us for a few more decades and with mom back in touch with her passion which was her art gallery, we had more than enough to live comfortably. Nowhere near the untouchable fortune my father owned, but it was enough. We were considered somewhat rich, living in a beautiful penthouse in one of London’s most famous residential buildings.

I guess, I just wanted to feel powerful and unbreakable, like my father was. Untouchable and strong, ruling on his throne and whatnot.

A few years later though, I was thankful that mom had protected me from that lifestyle. I was old enough for her to give me all the gnarly details of what my father’s business exactly included and I remember vividly that I had never felt more nauseous in my life when I googled up some events related to him and saw the evidence of how ruthless my father could actually be. Mom assured me that he would never do something like that to his family, especially me. Cause I was his own flesh and blood, but I couldn’t help the nightmares that wouldn’t leave me alone for a few months. 

And also, even if he would never do that to us, there was no guarantee that none of the people my father had pissed off, or perhaps would in the future, wouldn’t take it upon themselves to take vengeance on us.

My father made money in a lot of ways, and most of those ways were not legal. He was knee-deep involved in some kind of underworld criminal black business that even my mom didn’t know the exact details of, and that business was what mostly founded his life. 

Of course, being a businessman and running a seemingly harmless company was just a cover. 

Well, mom said that it was all he did at the beginning. He inherited the construction company from his father, renovated it and added some new branches and whatnot and started to make really good money out of it as well. Then, he started to buy other small, fledgling businesses and added them to his empire until he became one of the big names in business. He made sure that  _ Anderson Corp. _ was a well known name all around America and even in Europe as well. That’s when he was approached by the criminal organisations. They made him offers so tempting, he couldn’t deny and before he knew it, he was in black business like the rest of them. His greed the only thing stopping him from walking away.

That’s how he lost my mother; and me. They used to be highschool sweethearts. She loved him. I could see in her eyes, and in the way she used to talk about him and about all the good times they had together that she still held that boy she fell in love with when she was 16, so close to her heart. The only problem was that the man he was now, was in no way the same person she fell in love with. And, like the strong and wise woman she was, she didn’t stay back, trying to change him and waste her life. No, she made a decision, took her child, and left the man whose business and alliances (and of course his enemies) were a risk to her and her child’s life.

“You guys want anything else?”

Jerico’s deep voice broke the tense silence that had taken over our table, all of us lost in our own thoughts. 

“No, thank you so much though.” I smiled at the tanned man while Natalie nodded in agreement. 

“You know where to find me if you need anything then.” He said. He winked at Bryson, who smiled and nodded back at him, before walking away and Natalie and I suddenly straightened up in our seats. 

“Bryson Owen Wright, is Jerico the guy you’re hooking up with?” Natalies asked, pointing her finger threateningly at Bryson who looked comically uncomfortable. Well, I wasn’t about to save his ass though, I wanted to know the answer to that question just as much as Nat. Bryson cleared his throat, pushing Natalie’s finger away from his face, but before he could say a word, something clicked in my mind.

“Of course he is. ‘JerBear’ is freaking Jerico.” I exclaimed excitedly, remembering the weird text he had received a few days ago while he was showing some photos to Nat and I. We did try our best to interrogate him on the text and who was this guy who’s contact name in Bryson’s phone was JerBear, but Bryson didn’t budge that day. He was never big on nicknames and stuff, that’s what really intrigued Natalie and I. Who was this guy that was so special, he had a nickname in Bryson’s phone. 

Bryson groaned, covering his face with his hands. “He put that name on his contact.” He said before looking up at us. “I was just… making sure that it was working out, before telling you guys. And we're not hooking up, we're actually dating.” 

Natalie squealed happily, almost falling off her seat as she tried to give him a bear hug. 

“Bry-Bry you don’t owe us anything. We don’t expect you to tell us anything you’re not comfortable with.” He offered a wry smile when I squeezed his arm gently.

“Does your mom know?” Natalie asked and Bryson shook his head no. Typical of his mom.

“She basically had a meltdown when I told her I’m bi. Imagine how she would react when she finds out I’m dating a ‘ _ dude _ ’ as she would put it.” 

“It’s ok. She doesn’t even need to know.” 

“Um… back to your issue. What should we do about the dreadful party?” Bryson asked, trying to divert the attention. Both Nat and I got the hint and backed off. It was still a somewhat sensitive subject for Bryson, as his mom did not turn out as understanding as we expected her to be when he came out to her back in the freshman year of uni. 

“Well, I would actually love it if you guys helped me find something to wear.” 

“Oh, we’d love to.” Natalie exclaimed excitedly the same time Bryson whined, “no.” Glaring at Bryson, Natalie shook her head, “We’ll help you.” 

  
  



End file.
